


blue raft on a blue sea

by goinghost



Series: sloom - vespa's brain fics [1]
Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, Psychosis, Vespa Ilkay's No Good Very Bad Day, internalized ableism, psychosis as written by a psychotic person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goinghost/pseuds/goinghost
Summary: Vespa would never claim that her life was anything close to perfect, but there were some days that almost made her believe it could be. Days when the crew was preparing for their next heist and Rita decided it would be a good idea for a family movie night, so Vespa and Buddy claimed a spot on the shitty, built-into-the-wall loveseat in the common room. They’d hold each other and have the kind of date they never could back in the day, a date completely free of almost all chance of imminent peril.But then there were some days that were…not like that.--Vespa Ilkay is having a bad day.
Relationships: Buddy Aurinko/Vespa Ilkay
Series: sloom - vespa's brain fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042317
Comments: 16
Kudos: 52





	blue raft on a blue sea

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm schizophrenic. and as a schizophrenic, i've never seen a character's psychosis treated with the care that vespa's is. shadows of the ship is my favorite episode of the podcast for that reason. her storyline means a whole lot to me, and her character is one i relate to immensely. so i wrote this fic as a tribute to that. i've been working on it on-and-off for the past six months or so. i restarted it at least three times over that span. it's got a lot of myself baked into it. i hope it can touch people the way that vespa's story has touched me. 
> 
> heavy cw for internalized ableism present throughout. general cw for questioning whether the things you're seeing/hearing/experiencing are real or not. if there's anything more specific that you think i should warn for, let me know in the comments! 
> 
> title from 'maps' by the front bottoms, which i don't really think fits as a whole but the full lyric of "let me be a blue raft on a blue sea / i'll blend right in" DOES fit

Some days were better than others. 

Vespa would never claim that her life was anything close to perfect, but there were some days that almost made her believe it could be. Days when the crew was preparing for their next heist and Rita decided it would be a good idea for a family movie night, so Vespa and Buddy claimed a spot on the shitty, built-into-the-wall loveseat in the common room. They’d hold each other and have the kind of date they never could back in the day, a date completely free of almost all chance of imminent peril. 

But then there were some days that were…not like that. Days when she refused to let Buddy get out of bed for hours because if she set foot on the floor she’d fall straight through. Vespa could never handle the idea of losing Buddy but the idea of losing her amplified by ten by her broken brain wasn’t helping any. There were days when Vespa wouldn’t accept any of the food Steel tried to cook for them for fear that it was poisoned and he’d been biding his time trying to take them all out (just like the voice in her head claimed as often as it could.)

Vespa didn’t know exactly what to do with herself when she was having these days. Buddy and her had developed a kind-of routine. Buddy would notice when her fingers clutched their sheets, white-knuckled and tense, and ask, “Bad day today, darling?” and all Vespa could do was nod as she watched some giant salamander or poisonous beetle or whatever else her brain cooked up crawling down their wall, ready to kill. 

Today was one of the worse ones. Every shadow was a monster; every sound was a scream. Vespa could barely think with all the noise her brain was making. She squeezed her eyes tight for a second too long and her thoughts turned to all the places she could be stabbed with one of Ransom’s knives that would kill her instantly. She opened them and saw his shadow under the closed door of her and Buddy’s bedroom. 

“It’s not real,” she whispered to herself. But as she said it, she watched the shadow twist and morph into something with too many arms and great big horns and she grabbed the knife they always kept under the pillows and leapt out of bed, stalking towards the door with an assassin’s grace. 

Buddy blinked blearily at Vespa from her place in bed. Her silk bonnet looked like it was on fire, but that was an easy one to dismiss. Vespa saw Buddy burning often, probably something to do with the red hair. At least sometimes she could follow her brain’s logic. 

“Vespa, darling, why do you look as if you’re about to stab the door?” 

“Shhhhh!” She hissed, but even as she did it she regretted it. She hated getting short with Buddy. “Sorry. There’s something out there.” 

Buddy got that look in her eyes that Vespa knew well. It said, _Time to calm down the crazy person._ On some level she knew Buddy didn’t think of her that way, but it was one thing to know that and another to believe it when that seemed to be the only way anyone looked at you for years. _Time to make sure the crazy person doesn’t stab someone; time to tackle the crazy person; time to punch the crazy person’s lights out, how sad._ Ugh. 

“Dear,” Vespa felt her heart fill at the way Buddy called her _dear_ just like every time Buddy called her something in that loving tone, “how do you know there’s something there?” 

Vespa gestured below the door, aware of how ridiculous she must look, but unable to stop the fear running thick and hot through her veins. “The shadow. Can’t you see—” She cut herself off. The shadow was gone. 

“Of course the shadow’s gone, you idiot,” a voice she didn’t think she’d heard before said off to her left. Easy fake, there was no way anyone who’d managed to sneak aboard the ship and gain access to the Captain’s Quarters would reveal themselves just for a snide comment. 

“Never mind,” she grumbled, stalking back into bed and storing the knife below the mussed up pillows again. 

“Vespa—”

“I don’t have to talk about the shadow if I don’t want to,” she said with finality. Buddy had taught her that phrase for when things with the crew veered too close to the personal side of her brain. It hurt a little to have to use on Buddy, but she wasn’t in the mood to be comforted right now. She just wanted some peace and quiet. 

Buddy nodded, ever respectful because she was an incredible woman and Vespa should really be more fucking grateful to have her in her life. 

That was Vespa’s last thought before she drifted back to sleep, hoping rest would calm her brain. 

* * *

When Vespa woke up again, Buddy wasn’t in bed. Instead, laying next to her was...Vespa. But there was a knife sticking out of her stomach and blood staining her clothes. She muffled a shout at the dead body, pulling her arms up to her mouth and biting her sleeve. Vespa clenched her eyes closed tightly and counted to 100. It would probably be gone by the time she opened them again, right? For good measure, she pinched the skin of her thigh as tightly as she could manage with shaking hands. 

When she reached the end of her count and looked back at Buddy’s side of the bed, her dead body was gone. So much for sleep helping her bad day. 

With a grumble, she pushed aside the covers and climbed out of bed. When she and Buddy had first procured the Carte Blanche and begun their second life of crime together again, she’d spent some time talking with her about what helped on days when she couldn’t trust the reality her brain was projecting. Buddy asked all the right questions, albeit a little removed from her usual easy confidence, and they’d managed to put together a lot of little things that they could both do to make things easier. 

(She hated that these were the conversations she had to have now, ways to make her more manageable when she was filled with the overpowering weight of something that wasn’t even fucking real. Sometimes it paid to be paranoid, but most of the time it just made her a lousy roommate.)

One of the little things that Vespa knew she could count on to make her day make more sense was her clothing. She donned a familiar white shirt and baggy cargo pants, lacing up her black boots and shrugging on a green leather jacket that was one of the first things she’d gotten after losing her debtor’s tag. This outfit was comfortable; this outfit was armor. Vespa didn’t often put much stock in what she wore, but on days like this it was necessary to be in something that protected her. (It didn’t hurt that the collar of her jacket covered her neck and her heavy black boots were steel-toed.) 

She made her way out of her and Buddy’s room cautiously. There was no telling what she would run into. Vespa crept down the hallway leading to the kitchen like a rabbit creeping past a foxhole. Nothing appeared to surprise her. When she moved in front of the bathroom she heard snatches of a Rangian folk song that she easily dismissed as fake considering the door was open and there was no one inside, but other than that the usual voices in her head were silent. It should have been a relief, a sign that her day was improving, but instead she just felt a sick sense of anticipation. Like she should be preparing for something big. 

Regardless, Vespa made it to the kitchen in one piece. The rest of the crew were all there, eating breakfast and chatting. Steel and Rita were having some kind of argument over what movie to watch for stream night while Ransom tried keeping them from flinging granola bars at each other. Sikuliaq looked deep into a sudoku that was bigger than any puzzle had any right to be. Buddy was swirling a large glass of wine around and smiling amusedly between sips at the argument that was rapidly escalating despite Ransom’s interference. 

Huh. It wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, Buddy’s weird family all gathered together for breakfast, but it made Vespa pause anyway. Maybe it was the fact that it felt so normal, she didn’t know. Vespa spent so long with no one but herself to rely on that the idea of being a part of something bigger made her skin crawl. At least, something bigger than she and Buddy ever were. It wasn’t always a bad feeling, but it still left a strange pit in her stomach. 

The feeling shattered when she heard Ransom say flatly, “Oh, look, it’s Vespa here to ruin all of our fun.” 

“What did you just say?” She growled out, but everyone looked at her as if they’d just noticed she was there. 

When Steel answered, she knew what Ransom said must’ve been fake. “That Rita’s out of her mi—uh, that Rita’s got another thing coming if she thinks that I’m gonna sit through all of _Killer Clowns 4: Now With More Sharks_ when _Killer Clowns 2: New Clowns On The Block_ is right there.” 

“Mistah Steel, KC2 ain’t even got any good jokes in it!”

“Oh, so now you’re saying the banana gag isn’t funny, huh?” 

“Mistah Steel, I love you, you’re my best friend, but you’re also literally the only person in the whole galaxy who laughed at that joke!” 

“It was good!” 

Vespa tuned out the rest of their argument. She grabbed a mug from the cabinet behind Buddy and filled it up with coffee. When she reached past her, Buddy caught her hand. She blinked three times rapidly with a barely-concealed look of concern. It was a bit of a code they’d developed back when they were doing more and more heists that required stealth. It was a silent way of saying _Are you okay_ or _Stay on guard_ or _I love you._ Given how she’d woken Buddy up earlier that day, Vespa could guess how she meant it now. 

She blinked back once very deliberately. She didn’t know if she meant _No_ or _Yes_ , but it didn’t matter because Steel and Rita’s fight drew to a head and Ransom said, “Captain, if you wouldn’t mind interfering,” so Buddy turned away from her. 

Once again Vespa tuned out the conversation in favor of sipping her coffee. Usually she added milk, but today she drank it black. She hoped that the bitterness would help keep her grounded. But she heard her father’s voice explaining all the ways to skin a mosquito off to her left so probably not. 

The argument appeared to finally end with Buddy’s mediation. Steel looked as bitter as usual when dealing with any kind of authority figure and Rita looked haplessly delighted. Vespa took that as her cue to finally take a seat at the table. 

Buddy smiled when she joined them and placed a hand over hers, but the touch sent an uncomfortable jolt through her. Vespa didn’t pull away though, because she valued every moment that she got to touch Buddy Aurinko. Instead, she smiled thinly and moved so that their fingers were laced together. “Morning,” she finally said. 

Buddy’s voice sounded as smooth as silk when she replied, “Good morning, darling.” 

A new conversation started up, something about Ransom’s million-step skincare routine. Vespa wasn’t paying attention. She was too busy staring at the way Buddy’s eye crinkled at the corners when she smiled. She couldn’t stop looking at Buddy’s beautiful crow’s feet and the rest of the wrinkles on her perfect face. Vespa couldn’t fathom that she got to spend every morning with her. 

Then she saw it. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw _something_ crawling along the wall. It was as big as a fox, maybe a little bigger, with bright red scales and a long, barbed stinger. It’s four eyes were entirely black and shined like a beetle shell. The thing moved slowly towards the crew. Vespa watched as it crept ever closer to Sikuliaq’s head. She sat there, frozen by an overwhelming fear. 

The creature lifted its tail to strike and Vespa felt herself leap out of her chair and shout, “No!” There was a knife gleaming in her hand in the same breath and she flung it at the thing that was about to take Sikuliaq’s head off. 

Everyone stared at her. The shy part of Vespa that hated being the center of attention shrunk in on itself. The rest of her didn’t know what to do. 

“Love, are you alright?” Buddy asked, caring but cautious. 

“I…” She blinked. The creature stayed where it was. “Sikuliaq was—” she blinked again. The creature disappeared. Of fucking course. “I—I don’t—” No one said anything. She waited for that knowing look to show up on everyone’s faces, the look that said _Just the crazy person acting up again, nothing we need to worry about._ Vespa clenched her eyes shut tightly. She didn’t want to see the thought dawn on the crew. 

“I’m gonna—I need to go,” she said to the blackness behind her eyelids. Turning her head, she glanced around just to see where she was going and made her way to her and Buddy’s quarters. 

She heard footsteps following her, but that was an easy fake. No one would follow her after a display like that. Vespa was having a hard time convincing herself that anyone would still want to be on the crew with her. 

Except when she turned to sit on the bed, Buddy stood in the doorway. _Blink. Shake. Blink again._ Nope, not a hallucination. Buddy still stood there in all of her fiery glory. “Dear,” she sighed. Vespa couldn’t tell if it was with annoyance or relief. “I was worried—I don’t know what I was worried about. But I’m glad I’ve caught you.” With the grace of a dancer, Buddy picked her way towards Vespa. She sat down on the bed next to her. “Is it a bad day then?” 

For some reason, the question made small tears spring to the corner of Vespa’s eyes. She swallowed them down. “Yeah,” she rasped. 

“What do you need from me right now, Vespa? Anything at all.” 

“I think,” Vespa turned her gaze away from Buddy’s loving stare. It was too much at the moment. “I think I just need more sleep.” 

The corner of Buddy’s eye crinkled in a smile that Vespa had been admiring minutes ago, “Of course, darling.” She began getting herself ready for bed. She even went so far as to fluff the pillows a bit like they were in a stream. 

Vespa stared at her partner, confused, “What are you doing, Bud?” 

“Why, getting ready for more sleep, of course.” That same smile was on her face. 

“You...you want to stay?”

“Vespa, I do hope you aren’t insinuating that you’ll be sleeping off this dreadful time _alone._ What kind of a partner would I be if I left you to fend for yourself?” The mirth that had entered her tone lightened a little when she said, “Besides, if I’m here then you could fact check with me. I will watch your back as you’ve watched mine countless times.” 

Vespa found herself nodding, even as she screamed in her mind that it was a bad idea. She didn’t want Buddy to see her like this any more than she was sure Buddy wanted to watch her like some kind of mental babysitter. Except it was hard not to believe that Buddy wanted to be there because, damn, was she convincing when she wanted to be. And Vespa Ilkay made a habit of being convinced of the impossible by Buddy Aurinko. 

So she didn’t listen to the voices—not all of them her own—that told her that this would end badly and instead she got into bed with her beautiful partner and even went so far as to close her eyes. 

Maybe she really did just need more sleep. 

* * *

When Vespa woke up, Buddy was gone. 

Of course Buddy was gone, she told herself. After half an hour of playing minder for Vespa’s runaway mind, being forced to answer if every little sound was real, of course she would want to leave the minute Vespa fell asleep. 

Except when she ran a hand over Buddy’s side of the bed, it was still warm. She heard the sink running in the bathroom down the hall. Oh. Maybe Buddy hadn’t decided to go back to the crew when Vespa’s breathing finally settled. 

Well, she was done sleeping for now, at least. She might as well meet Buddy in the hall. She climbed out of their bed and walked through the door, on high alert for anything out of the ordinary. 

Nothing surprised her on her trek to the bathroom. It was suspicious. It put her on even higher alert than before. When she arrived, Buddy was closing the door behind her, but there were no spiders or worms crawling under the door. The only noises were the sounds of the ship settling. 

“Vespa, darling, you’ve woken up just in time,” Buddy said with ease. “Stream night is about to begin.” She glanced at what must have been Vespa’s haggard appearance. “Unless you’d rather sit this one out?”

 _Hmm._ Vespa thought about it. She wasn’t gonna count any wasps before they laid their eggs, but her bad day was going a little better. And she _was_ curious what stream Steel and Rita finally agreed to watch. Besides, Vespa was an assassin and a field medic, she refused to believe that she couldn’t handle a family stream night. 

“I’ll come,” she said, attempting a smile. It probably didn’t go very well. 

Buddy attempted her own smile and it went much better than Vespa’s, “Excellent.” 

They both made their way to the common room where Ransom, Steel, Rita, and Sikuliaq were all setting up for the movie. Rita looked to be in the process of making a blanket fort with Sikuliaq’s help while Ransom and Steel made goo goo eyes at each other. 

“Oh, spare me,” she said, coming up to the loveseat that she and Buddy always claimed, but there was no bite to it. 

Ransom and Steel both jumped, but besides a backwards glance, they didn’t say anything. Rita smiled widely at her from between two propped up cushions, “Heya, Miss Vespa! We’re just about to get started. Just us, and nothing or no one else in this room that’s not us!” Then she winked conspiratorially. 

Vespa felt her cheeks go red, but a small part of her heart warmed at Rita’s obvious attempts to fact check her reality. The rest of her felt embarrassed, but she couldn’t dwell on it because Buddy squeezed her hand and settled down into the loveseat wrapped around her and everything felt alright. 

When the stream started and she heard loud screams coming from somewhere aboard the Carte Blanche, she was almost relieved at her brain’s intrusion. The lack of hallucinations after the day she’d had was weird. 

Steel seemed to notice her tense up from his place on the couch and he yawned loudly and grumbled, “This ship is so damn quiet sometimes.”

“It would stay quiet if you didn’t interrupt the movie, Mistah Steel!” Rita said at her normal volume. 

“Alright, alright,” Steel replied, putting his hands up, but he shut up. The screaming stopped too, right as he said the last word. Huh. 

The rest of the stream went on without a hitch. With the lights of the Carte Blanche dimmed and nothing but space shining through the windows, Vespa felt herself start to drift off. Even the explosions from the stream weren’t enough to keep her head from lulling. She’d slept through much louder things. Except Vespa shouldn’t be falling asleep right then. She’d never felt safe enough to rest during a stream night. She always insisted on staying awake in case _something_ happened. 

But nothing was happening. Her brain was oddly quiet and she felt...reassured by everyone in the crew for the first time ever. Sitting there, limbs tangled up with Buddy’s and the Aurinko Crime family sprawled across Rita’s blanket fort, Vespa found that she’d never felt safer. 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! 
> 
> you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/GHOSTZVNE) screaming about psychotic representation in the media and also the penumbra podcast!
> 
> this fic means a lot to me and it'd mean even more if you left a comment or kudos (or both even!) on it


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